“I understand that it’s . . .”

“What kind of fucking collaboration!”

“I’ll explain. If you tell me why you’re here. First.”

She declined the chair he’d pulled out from the kitchen table.

“While your . . . acquaintance is listening?”

“While my acquaintance is listening.”

She looked at the stranger sitting at the kitchen table, trying to decide if her boss had lost his mind or just his judgment, then she turned to Grens.

“This Dusko Zaravic.”

“Yes?”

“I don’t buy your theory. That he’s involved in something that has to do with that whiteboard or our real investigation, which is being handled at the police station. Because, Ewert, if three of your buddies have just been executed, and you were either their killer or the next in line, would you spend your night dancing at some gangster wedding without taking any safety precautions?”

Another glance at the stranger. He didn’t seem to react to what she said. She wondered what that meant.

“We’ve got him surrounded. Twelve men. But I have a problem. I can’t just invite myself in and ask for a dance at a gangster wedding. So we have to have our ducks in a row for this arrest.”

“You do. You have my order.”

“Yes, yours. But not Wilson’s. Our chief. Do you know why? Because I—the officer carrying this out—can’t argue for it if I don’t know your reasons.”

“You should arrest him because I tell you so. That’s enough. I answer to Wilson. And I want to know—how Zaravic is acting? Is he completely without protection?”

“Yes. He is. But . . .”

“Well—grab him! Or . . .”

Then it came back. That feeling he’d decided to ignore when he chose to expose her to a disguised Hoffmann and the whiteboard of his secret investigation. The feeling that one of the people he trusted most might have another agenda of their own.

“. . . do you not want to arrest him?”

“Excuse me?”

“Do you have some other problem with arresting him, Hermansson, that you can’t talk about?”

“Didn’t you hear what I just said? My problem is you’re hiding things from me and I don’t know why!”

An answer he didn’t like because it was no answer.

“Well then.”

Not to his actual question.

“I’ll have to do it myself.”

“You can’t do that Ewert, not this time—Wilson already said no, and he’s the one you have to convince. But if you can’t even convince me there’s a reason for suspicion, then . . .”

“Good. Then here’s what we’ll do. All three of us are headed to the police station. Now.”

Mariana Hermansson nodded at the stranger at the table.

“To Kronoberg? With your acquaintance who’s taking part in your kitchen investigation?”